


Time Marches On

by Woodswolf



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Amnesia, Anemophobia, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Derealization, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insomnia, Loss, Loss of Control, Loss of Identity, Loss of Parent(s), Loss of Powers, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Possession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Reflection, Regret, Self Confidence Issues, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, brief wusako mention, unreality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 13:05:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woodswolf/pseuds/Woodswolf
Summary: Because by now, Wu has come to realize that his careful watching – what started as little more than a mindless routine – has slowly developed into something more valuable. It’s become something far more important than he had first understood; it’s developed into something simultaneously nostalgic and sorrowful.It’s become his way to observe how time marches on.No matter how much one may resist it, time steadily moves forward. The world changes; cities evolve; society adapts.People change, too, and that's sometimes what hurts the most.





	Time Marches On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First, a realization that the kids from the beginning are very different now. Later, a conversation about the past, regret, loss, and recovery.

Sometimes, he watches them.

Wu gave up long ago on trying to find the proper term for what they are to him. The lines between “students” and “friends” and “family” were blurred into nonexistence long ago; he’s decided that it’s not something worth deciding. Instead, he idly watches them from the sidelines, a silent, anonymous observer.

They train, or they talk, or they play – the difference doesn’t matter much to him. Wu only watches, never interrupting, barely pretending that he’s even interested. Instead, he takes careful glances out of the corner of his eye, or occasional blinks in their general direction. They don’t notice, and he’s glad.

Because by now, Wu has come to realize that his careful watching – what started as little more than a mindless routine – has slowly developed into something more valuable. It’s become something far more important than he had first understood; it’s developed into something simultaneously nostalgic and sorrowful.

It’s become his way to observe how time marches on.

It always happens like this: His eyes lose focus. His mind wanders. And then he glances over at them again, and he sees something completely different.

Today, he sees a clump of children, laughing together. The black-haired boy has his head thrown back, eyes teary from laughter. The boy in blue next to him is red in the face, but still giggling as he reaches for the hand of the girl next to him. She notices, smiles, grabs it and holds it tight; the lanky blonde nearby grins and winks at the boy in blue. And while all of this is going on, the much younger child in green is riding around on the shoulders of the boy with crazy brown hair. The two of them run through the other group and send them all scattering, and the scene quickly devolves into a chaotic game of tag.

Wu holds his eyes open for as long as he can. He forces himself not to blink for as long as possible while he drinks the scene in. He commands himself to remember every single detail.

Because then he blinks, and it’s gone. In its place is a group of older teens – almost adults – talking quietly to each other about something he can’t quite overhear.

And sure, they all still look happy – but their smiles don’t quite reach their eyes.

* * *

“Wu?”

He’s in the middle of meditating on the porch outside when Lloyd calls for him, but Wu still opens his eyes and turns towards him. Lloyd sits down beside him slowly and stares off into the distance. Wu says nothing, allowing him time to gather his thoughts.

“Well… just…” he begins, slowly, “What was it like?”

“Hm?” Wu asks. He gazes into his nephew’s face, trying to decipher his thoughts.

“You know,” Lloyd whispers, barely audible over the night breeze. “Before all of this.”

They’re both quiet for a long time after that. Wu glances up at the moon and the twinkling stars, wondering how to respond. After another moment, he opens his mouth to speak, but pauses, considering his words carefully.

“The past is the past, Lloyd,” he says quietly, solemnly. “We can’t change it; we can only learn from it. We must focus on the future instead, and try to learn from our mistakes.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” Lloyd’s voice is flat, emotionless, but Wu can sense the bitterness and sorrow lurking deep within. “But all the same, I just…”

Lloyd trails off, the unspoken thought dying on his tongue. Wu knows what Lloyd is trying to say, and he also knows that he _can’t_ say it.

And most importantly, Wu understands _why._

He stares down at his lap and slowly grasps Lloyd’s hand, twining their fingers together and gently squeezing. Moments later, when Lloyd squeezes back with slightly more force, Wu observes the differences in their hands.

Wu’s own hands are old and worn, covered in small scars from long-forgotten skirmishes and familiar callouses from holding his staff. His skin is drawn tightly against his bones from age; thick tendons and purple-blue veins are easily visible on the underside of his wrist. His fingers are long and bony, covered in wrinkles; the lines on his palms are deep and exaggerated from time slowly carving them deep into his flesh. His hands have seen the weather of a thousand storms and known how it feels to erode into nothing.

But Lloyd’s hands – Lloyd’s hands are soft and light, smooth. They bear nothing more than small scrapes, and even those are few and far between. The lines along his palms are shallow and barely present; the backs of his hands are free of wrinkles. His wrists hide his muscles, and only barely hint at his veins. His fingers – which are relatively long, a trait shared with his father and uncle – are smooth and moderately wide, and end in narrow fingernails crudely chewed short.

Wu feels those hands and imagines them as his own from centuries ago, when he was young and joyful, safe from the horrors of the world, sheltered and protected in the Monastery with his father and brother. He remembers those days: the three of them eating meals together in the evening, laughing together; training and play-fighting with Garmadon in the main courtyard while their father watched; sitting with his family, drinking tea and staring out at the sunset.

But he also remembers the bleaker times, when there seemed to be less light, less joy in the world. He remembers the day that Garmadon was bitten, when the evil venom – the dark curse – began to flow through his brother’s veins. He remembers the day that his father died, when the two of them were still barely on the verge of adulthood. He remembers trying to salvage his relationship with his brother, but only causing them to grow further apart.

Wu mourns his childhood, but he knows that Lloyd’s has been far worse.

“If it were possible for me to relive my life,” Wu says slowly, staring into his own lap, “If someone were to offer me a way to fix my mistakes, I would take it in a heartbeat.”

Wu senses Lloyd’s gaze shift to him, slowly, carefully – but he says nothing, instead choosing to wait for Wu to continue. After a moment, Wu sighs and begins speaking again.

“There are a lot of things I regret in my life,” he whispers. “Losing my brother because of my own careless neglect. Losing my first love because I was afraid of rejection. Losing… losing my first student because I made a promise that I couldn’t keep.”

Lloyd’s body tenses slightly, coiling up like a spring, preparing either to fight or to flee. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s there. It’s there in the way Lloyd’s grip on Wu’s hand momentarily intensifies, and in the way that his shoulders lock themselves in place, and in the way that his eyes fix themselves on an invisible point, freezing in place.

Wu is certain that if he didn’t know his nephew, if he didn’t know what Lloyd has been through, he wouldn’t feel it at all.

“Your life has been harder than I could ever even imagine,” Wu says. “And I want you to know something that took me a very long time to figure out.”

His nephew cocks his head to the side, giving him a momentary curious glance before his eyes slide from his face once again. Wu sighs and begins to whisper into the wind once more.

“I want you to know that it’s not wrong to resent the hand that fate has dealt you.”

Lloyd’s eyes dart up and meet his own, and they gaze deep into each other’s faces for a moment. Wu can see the layer of almost-tears shimmering in Lloyd’s eyes, and he can feel the wetness in his own.

Lloyd is the first to break eye contact. He silently turns away to stare off over the world far below them, and he examines the seemingly infinite landscape below. The bustling city giving way to silent desert; the arid wastelands surrendering to crowded woodlands; the dark forests growing colder and snowier – and almost lonelier – as they approach the far-off horizon.

Finally, Lloyd lets out a near-silent whisper. “Thank you,” he says, squeezing Wu’s hand again. Wu squeezes back a moment later, offering silent reassurance. “Thank you,” Lloyd says again, so quietly that Wu couldn’t tell whether he’d merely imagined it.

In the silence that follows, Wu turns inward. He wants to clear his mind, to do nothing but absorb the quiet, peaceful moment unfolding around him – but he can’t help but acknowledge the presence of one specific thought. And while it bothers him, he can’t deny that it rings pure and true.

 _The past may be the past,_ Wu thinks, _but that doesn’t make it hurt any less._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!~ I know I haven't written much in a while, but I had an initial idea for a fic just a few days ago and I couldn't get it out of my head. So here we are!
> 
> This is the first multi-chapter fic I've written in quite a while, but it's going to be less plot-based and more like individual character studies. There'll be one chapter for each of the characters, exploring their inner conflicts and relationships with the other team members - and more specifically, the things they've experienced over time that have had the most impact on who they are.
> 
> First up is (obviously) Wu, and the order after that is going to be Lloyd, Zane, Cole, Jay, Nya, and finally Kai. Theoretically, these can be read in any order, but they're going to kinda flow together (you'll see how with the next chapter, probably).
> 
> Also, don't ask me where the hell in the timeline all of these take place, because I have no idea. They're really going to be all over the place - this one I imagine as post-S8 (or whenever-they-finally-find-Wu-again), but some of the others are going to take place much earlier (Zane's and Jay's being the most prominent examples).
> 
> Finally, most of the tags are for content that'll be in future chapters. They're listed approximately in order of when they'll occur (i.e. the stuff that's gonna be in Lloyd's chapter is listed before the stuff that's in Cole's chapter, etc.), so while a lot of them aren't relevant yet, they will be in the future.
> 
> Updates might be a bit inconsistent, but I have a lot of ideas for this fic, so it should go pretty fast. ;D


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